Brokenness
by teddylupin-snape
Summary: Maybe, just maybe, two broken parts could make a whole. .:. Wolfstar oneshot, set in the first Wizarding war


**A/N: For Round 6 Quidditch, where I had to write a 'Slice of Life' fic between 1-3k**

**Also for the House Cup Competition, round 3 (Prompts used: Lyrics "I had a dream my life would be so different from this hell I'm living" –Les Misèrables, I Dreamed a Dream; Emotion: Restless; Word: Pressure; Colour: Grey; ****bonus**** Dialogue: "I wasn't expecting this"; Word: Forgotten) Gryffindor 3****rd**** year**

**And for All Sorts of Love, OTP (Wolfstar)**

**x**

**This fic is inspired by the quote "We are two men, two minute sparks of life; outside is the night and the circle of death" from All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque**

**xox**

"Sirius, where are you going?" you ask, springing to your feet to hold him back. "You can't—"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Remus. I can't just… just sit here, I need to go, I need to fight!" Sirius says as you hold your arm in front of the doorway. "Let me go," he says, not waiting for you to move before pushing you out of the way.

"Sirius, just please, give me five minutes."

Sirius sighs, but stands back, leaning against the wall and pushing hair out of his eyes. "How can you expect me to calmly stay here when they may very well be in danger? What if something happens, Rem? How would you feel if you could've stopped it, but didn't?" Sirius's glare bores directly into your own.

"Siri, you can't—you can't think I wouldn't _care_. This is James and Lily we're talking about here. Besides, Dumbledore doesn't expect anything to happen tonight, we shouldn't worry. Just calm down. C'mon, let's sit down and I'll make you some tea." You lead Sirius to the couch in front of the fireplace in the other room before heading off to start the tea. Sirius has been on edge for months. You aren't at ease either, but Dumbledore seems calm, and calm is welcome in a time like this. You just hope you can trust his judgement.

.

You return to Sirius, carrying two cups of tea and sitting at his side. "Thanks," he murmurs, taking his cup and resting his head on your shoulder. You can tell that he's trying hard not to cry, and you hope he doesn't. You can't watch Sirius cry without crying yourself.

You sit in silence for a few moments, only the crackling fireplace could be heard. He keeps fidgeting, and you can see the flames reflected off his grey eyes.

"Sirius," you start, noticing how restless he is.

"No," he says, holding up a finger to silence you. You fall quiet, eyeing him as he thinks about whatever it is that's on his mind. You know better than to interrupt him when he's immersed in his thoughts. "It's just that… I thought it'd be different, you know? I mean, there's no denying the war going on, I just kinda anticipated more battle and less waiting around for something to happen. Not that I'm upset about it or anything, it's just—"

"Not what you expected," you finish. Sirius nods, and you continue. "Sirius, it's not like we're destined to be some big war heroes or anything. Honestly, I'm happy we're safe. James and Lily are still safe, Peter's safe. We can make it through this war, Sirius. I know we can, but if you want to live to tell the tale, we can't be throwing ourselves at the front line every chance we get."

"But Rem, if we don't, what story are we gonna tell? Cooped up here, we hardly know what's going out there. Right now, we haven't made names for ourselves, have we? Just two men, another couple of nobodies." Sirius glances through the window at the night sky, and you know he's wishing for nothing more than to be out there, doing _something_.

"Sirius, don't say that. We're _not_ nobodies. You're somebody, an amazing somebody. _My_ somebody," you say, gently kissing his cheek before continuing. "Everything'll be fine. I've told you this before, and nothing's happened yet, has it? Everything is fine, Sirius."

Your voice is calming, and you know he has no choice but to accept what you say as true.

"You know, Remus, it's like… like it's our generation that has all the responsibility, all the pressure on our shoulders. Part of me hoped for a quiet life, you know. I didn't think a full-blown war would break out right beneath us. I wasn't expecting this…" he trails off.

You nod and turn slowly to face the crackling fire again. The flames burn reds and golds, like the Gryffindor that you're supposed to be. Maybe you _are _meant to fight after all, not stay cooped up here long enough for the world to calm down. But then you think you're a werewolf on Dumbledore's side, sitting in a house with a Black who's going against everything he's ever been told, fighting against Voldemort.

Maybe you aren't just staying here for your own safety. A selfish part of you wants to pretend that the war doesn't exist, so you can live a normal life with Sirius. You spend sleepless nights praying that nothing happens to Sirius or you, that you can come out of this war alive and together. You know that nothing's concrete, everything's up in the air when it comes to Voldemort and this war, you're not guaranteed safety by staying away from the front line, but you can't risk it. You can't risk losing Sirius.

You nestle your head in Sirius's neck, wrapping a gentle arm around his shoulder and pulling him close to you. "Rem, I know you're sure nothing bad'll happen, but what if something _does_. Of course I trust your judgment, but what if Dumbledore's wrong? You know how he is, always trusting, always hoping." Sirius turns to look you in the eyes, and you feel the agony and fear in his voice. You wish you could end this war on your own, so you never have to see him like this again. Like you could make him forget everything he's ever seen of hate or evil. You miss when Sirius believed—in love, in getting away with pranks and springing into action and immerging unscathed.

You already bore so many physical scars, not to mention the emotional scars of _"Don't go near that boy, don't you know what he is?"_ and _"You cannot talk with that werewolf, he's nothing more than a devil. He's not even really a human_._"_

Sirius bears the emotional scars of everything his family said to him. You've watched him throw off their accusatory glares since he was eleven, but you know that he wouldn't be the same if he hadn't gone through hell as a child, in a family that was supposed to keep him safe and nurture him.

Maybe, just maybe, two broken parts could make a whole.

You look over at Sirius, who's already asleep with his head resting on yours. You doze off to the calming rhythm of his breathing.

.

The next morning, you skim through the pages of today's _Daily Prophet_. No big news, nothing new. You smile to yourself, knowing that you didn't lie to Sirius last night, that nothing bad _did_ happen.

And somehow you know that your brokenness meshes perfectly with Sirius's. You can't help but hope that he knows it too.

**xox**

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed.**

**I haven't been writing much lately, my muse is practically dried up, but this needed to be written, and I like how it turned out. Please leave me a review to let me know what you think!**


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